30 Tales
by Seven Ravens
Summary: A collection of vignettes for the 2009 Boys of Summer challenge. Random pairings, alternate universes, mild yaoi implications, stereotypes, the occasional drunken Ronin, death, and other such snippets of life.
1. Masquerade in Red

Rocket: The product of a Clint Eastwood and Bauhaus overload. Go ask my muse how that happened. I do not own the Ronin Warriors in any way, except for the DVDs.

Writing Prompt: carriage, masks

**Masquerade in Red**

Tiger-blue eyes crept out of the darkness, set in a mask of fiery red clay: all violent licks and curves of flaming features half-shadowed with a thick mane of flat black hair.

The man wandered beneath the navy sky that hung over the cut of trees, blindly leading himself along on the soft dirt road under the faint light of a quarter moon, when the sounds of iron footfall approached from behind. He turned to take in the sound of oncoming horses before lights came swaying in a pair through the trees around the bend.

Green eyes drew closer in the thick void of night; as the man in the road watched the horses rumble toward him, their eyes seemed to reflect the fire, even in the shadows. He held his hand to hail the massive carriage that came creaking up from the vacuum of silence it created around itself in the forest. Set upon the wheels was a cab of towering, carved wood enclosed in a polished iron frame that glinted in the light of the lamps that hung out over the horses' heads on lavish poles with swirls of iron over the copper-leafed glass encasing the melting white candles. The driver was dressed in the fashions of another time: heavy gray robes draped over wrapped limbs and straight, silver hair spilling out from the hat casting a shadow over the eyes of the man's olive face. A whip quivered in the October breeze next to a pair of hands that held the reigns steady. The horses themselves were monsters: temperamental beasts with fur like ink all snorting and tapping at the ground with their shoes. When the man looked up at the stretches of jaw waving about impatiently in the night, the candles shone off little braids and a vibrant red bow tied into the mane of the one nearest him.

The driver said nothing. Words began to form in the man's throat when he thought better of intruding upon the silence the robed ancient pointed out over his horses. He adjusted his mask and swung himself up through the door, which had been opened by a gloved hand, among three passengers who awkwardly moved the rich fabrics of their clothing aside to make way for the man. When he sat down, the same hand was reaching out to pull the door closed. The gloves belonged with a layered red silk dress draped over a long, thin frame. Little red crystals dripped into her lap from the sheer fabric between upturned breasts. The woman who had closed the door turned to look at him with a cautious, curious smile. Her hair was wild, a deep red untamed yet elegant over her pale, heart-shaped face. Hazel eyes peered out from a white oval set into black and red checkering with red ribbons showering down from the temples: a harlequin mask.

"I'm Koji, Mia," she offered her hand confidently.

"I'm Sanada, Ryo," the man pushed his mask up over his forehead to kiss the heavy white fabric shrouding her hand with his eyes trained on hers.

"And _I'm_ Lady Kayura," came a higher, younger voice. The charmed look on Mia's face vanished when her eyes flashed across the cab to the girl giggling softly as she held her hand out for Ryo, who broke his hold on the other woman to be a gentleman and take the cream-colored glove reaching out to him. Lady Kayura looked far too young to be considered a 'lady,' but she offered no other title. Her hair was long and navy like the starry night outside this cab and pinned up in careful rolls with three little peacock feathers that danced along the ceiling whenever she moved her head about. Her dress was some strange, fine material that crawled up in blue and gray-green patches over the poised curves above her bare legs. The toes of her small, tan suede boots were pointed together in a childlike fashion. She wore no mask, simply fine black lines painted over her large eyes and a touch of red at her lips. When she leaned forward, she breathed in to highlight the fine bones of her shoulders over the tasseled brass plate covering the small expanse of chest. "It's very nearly moonless tonight! Tell me, how do you see, and how were you traveling without a horse?"

"The road is bright enough to me, even in this darkness." Ryo was speaking to the redhead at his side. A flattered, light smile settled Mia's face. Lady Kayura sighed through her nose in frustration and fished a cigarette from the engraved wooden case in the basket at her feet. She flicked open a lighter without the delicacy of removing her glove and inhaled the flame. The dark-haired man continued, "I lost my horse a few days back. It was… an accident."

Lady Kayura offered the little box of cigarettes to him and Mia, who refused. She settled into the red velvet upholstery at her back and offered to the man sitting at her side.

"No, I don't care to smoke, thank you," he held his hand up without looking away from the moonlight seeping in through the window above his head. Perhaps something about the way he gazed up at the purple crescent out there with the driver - who made no sound to affirm his presence at the reins of the hellish black horses pulling them on - or perhaps the little parts making up his image gave Ryo the perception that he belonged out there, creeping in the shadows. His suit was a rich crimson lined was a thick strip of black. Silver hair waved violently over a delicate, pale face with a sharp blue eye. His mask was a clay baked in black glaze with fine silver paint webbed over the forehead, his cheek, and red gracing the belly of the spider crawling over his left eye. Something in his mannerisms suggested that the girl at his side was his companion, though she had not yet implied it in any way with her own body language.

"I'm Kuroda, Dais," he gazed at Ryo for a moment with his single eye before turning with disinterest to look out the window again.

"I'm sorry about your horse," Lady Kayura was saying. Her mood lightened before Ryo could thank her for her condolences for the poor animal and she pulled out a bottle wrapped in a splintered hemp cording with enough small glasses for everyone. From the low slosh inside the green bottle, some wine had been taken already. "I come prepared for such trips. I'm guessing from your mask, Ryo, that you're also going to the ball at the Dates'?"

"Yes. I'm very glad this cab came along; I'd been walking for some time."

"My goodness!" Mia remarked, subtly holding a hand to her chest, a gesture Lady Kayura could not do without drawing attention to her breastplate.

"Tell me," Dais suddenly became interested as he took the bottle of wine to pour for the ladies, "What happened to your horse?"

"I ran her too hard. She broke an ankle."

"How do you know this Sage gentleman?" Lady Kayura blew the smoke loudly through her lips as she leaned back into her corner to regard the man sitting diagonal from her.

"He's an old friend. And the two of you?"

"I've met him a few times," Dais explained casually, in a tone that was all too careful to Ryo's ears. "He knows my master."

"My story is the same," his companion raised her glass to her lips.

"Your master? What do you do?" Mia blinked, her curiosity suddenly piqued.

"I serve a man, fulfill an array of small jobs. Tonight, I'm on an errand for him," the man seated across from her seemed a little defensive. He only looked down at the blue-haired girl next to him when he answered.

"Errand?" the woman at Ryo's right arm was intrigued again.

"Oh, yes. It's a matter of business on behalf of Master Talpa. He has things to discuss with the one he seeks about Anubis," Lady Kayura chirped drunkenly. Ryo was about to ask if she was in any association with tonight's task at hand when Dais shot her a silencing look.

"Quite a feat, considering the party," Mia's hand absently touched the mask over her eyes.

The name had sent a shiver through Ryo. When he'd broken on through the forest without his horse, trying to gain time to breathe and prepare for the battle closing at his heels with the gallop behind him, it had been Anubis he was waiting for. The days since had been spent wondering what had happened to his body, no doubt discovered in all its blood-encrusted glory.

"My master demands a certain degree of confidentiality in his affairs," he seemed to be telling Lady Kayura all too late. Then, to Ryo, "I am being sent to seek out the man and handle the whole matter like gentlemen."

"I'd say if your master was a real gentleman, he'd handle it himself," the black-haired man noted offhandedly.

"Believe what you like. I live for the tasks that my master does not wish to do."

"Who is it you wish to speak with?" Mia leaned forward, as if the intimacy could loosen his tongue.

"Dais doesn't know who he's looking for, but he is very clever. He'll find him," Dais' harsh glares had no effect in silencing Lady Kayura, who took his elbow pleadingly. "Won't you at least stay a while?"

"Yes, I plan to enjoy myself." His words seemed more of a breath of anticipation for the night ahead than a reassurance to the girl sharing his seat. When he shifted to look out the window, the light falling under the velvet curtains gleamed off metal tucked away in the folds of fabric about his waist. Ryo's eyes flickered back and forth from the barrel of the gun that seemed to be aimed specifically at him, to the passive eye regarding the sliver of light through the glass. He felt the tempered steel of his short blade burning through the sheath against his leg. Did Dais know? Was he watching across his nose from the corner of his eyes? Would he fire before the distance had closed and bring these women into it? No. He seemed to enjoy waiting and feeling the web twitch. The carriage would be arriving to the ball soon, and there Ryo would lure this man out and destroy him quietly. The blood would pool black in the shadows, the dying breaths would be heard by only one.

"Where is that wine?" Lady Kayura hiccupped and held up her empty glass for the others to see.

"By my feet," Ryo answered as he picked up the heavy bottle and tipped it to the rim of her cup. The wine flowed out and his eyes drifted to the man who seemed to be smiling patiently in the webs of darkness floating over his face.


	2. Smut

Rocket: I don't own Ronin Warriors, blah blah blah. I hopped on the bandwagon for the Ronin Summer Writing Challenge five days too late! Hooray for being a white rabbit! 'Masquerade in Red' was Day 0, so here we go.

Day 1 Prompts: lazy days, Futurama, and a tip of the hat to miss emeraldteardrops' damned knickers.

**Smut**

The leggy redhead stood with a hip and a green plastic gun cocked at the thirsty lilies along the square of cement jutting out into the backyard. It was a just the right kind of lazy summer day for her tastes: a warm, sunny afternoon on the couch with a book while the boys were out. She woke up to an empty house and the liberty to leave her paperwork and bookdiving in lieu for something much healthier: tacky romance novels without the open scrutiny of five mystical teenagers that happened to be hanging around. She had her guilty pleasures and damn it, as lady of the house, she should be able to enjoy them wherever she liked.

"You don't even have the decency to read that stuff in your room?" Cye had once asked in what Mia considered to be melodramatic disgust as she sat in her armchair with a torrid little tale about firefighters and the women who love them.

Rowen started laughing. "That's sick!"

"For your information, I save all the good scenes up here for later," she tapped her temple with her forefinger and twitched an eyebrow at Sage. The supposedly suave blonde immediately went red and looked down at his hands folded in his lap.

"Whoa," Ryo was completely taken by surprise with that one.

Cye could see a sentiment forming in Kento's mind (it just so happened to be, "That's pretty hot") and smacked him in the face with a one of the throw pillows before Hardrock could even open his mouth. The fluff and silk shut him up and nothing more; he turned and matched Wildfire's grin with that perverted little connection between them. She had simply rolled her eyes and kept reading, much to the horror of the poor little water boy.

So today had been spent with comfy underwear partially concealed under little black shorts and a pink tank top. No bra. There was no need to fuss over extra cloth and wire when she was simply lounging about reading smut with the windows open. As easily as she could've used the time to her advantage, she simply lounged on the loveseat for the tales of a lonely streetwalker named Aika. When the sun and shadows began to crawl up the walls, she dredged up the energy to pull herself off the couch and go outside to water the flowers.

And now here she stood in her bare feet with the hose , beginning to wonder what exactly the boys were doing. They'd all left, either in small groups or one large herd. Wherever they had gone, someone had taken Yuli and White Blaze with. The plants weren't dying, so she was fulfilling her duties for the day. Dinner would be on Cye whether he expected it or not. If they didn't come back, _then_ she would get a sandwich and begin to worry. After a few more chapters.

"I don't know why Mia keeps saying she needs to hire a gardener," Strata's voice echoed across the yard just then. The jolt of noise caused Mia to spray a patio chair when she turned around to see the five of them standing on the balcony.

"Yeah, she seems to be doing a fine job," Sage was looking at Rowen with his arms folded across his chest approvingly.

"Hey Mia, we found your book!" Kento cupped a hand to shout and wave her book triumphantly. "Hookers!"

"On the loveseat? Really?" Cye was just as sore as she expected.

Ryo simply had that weird look in his eyes.

With one small sweep of her wrist, the girl managed to soak all five Ronins with a pelt of icy water. Rowen squealed like a girl and Kento managed to shield his right eye, book be damned! She'd found it in a bin at a thrift store anyway.

When the boys had managed to rub the water from their eyes, Mia was hiking toward the camellias lining the path to the lake with the roll of hose over her shoulder. She flipped up the back of her skirt to reveal lime green panties. Catcalls erupted from the balcony and she swung her hips as she stepped on.


	3. Morning Birds

Day 2 Prompt: Snoozy Rowen

**Morning Birds**

Rowen wasn't aware of any one fixed point in time when he drifted back into his body. Rather, he felt like he soared through soft, cool clouds and opened his eyes. The sun had already crept onto his chest and lit the room in a haze of clear light. He hadn't paid much attention to the wallpaper when he'd come stumbling in from saving the world last night, or whenever that was.

The songs of the morning birds filled the glowing blue walls from the large window over his head and kept him in a lull from their place in the sky. His nerves were awake only enough to feel the breeze and soft bedding around him. He was given to his airy nature in that he tended to drift up into dreamy space when he wasn't confined within Strata and never could understand how Kento could leap out of bed to do 100 crunches while suspended from the balcony over the dining room from the moment his eyes snapped open in the morning.

He rolled over from his side and sat up in one long, drawn-out motion to fluff his pillows, flop back with the sheets wrinkled around his waist and enjoy the air stirring the curtains over his thin chest. The veils of fabric fluttering across his lips were just a shade lighter than the warm sky.

Through the open door came the sounds of dishes clattering as quietly as possible. The scent of food was strangely absent, but that was fine right now. The others were all here and safe; their presence was as simple as the air he breathed. There was life and a world waiting outside, he was sure of that much.

The archer's pale skin stretched tight over his ribcage as he reached up to grab the feather pillow beneath his head and close his eyes, and he dreamt he held fast wings and sailed up into oblivion through the curtains.


	4. Yellow

Rocket: Brain does not want to cooperate. I don't even know where I got this.

Day 3 Prompt: Shoe scuffs

**Yellow**

Kento grumbled at the large pair of white sneakers on the train floor. He was already in a sour mood and the scuff of yellow shoe polish was not making anything better. Who really used yellow shoe polish, and on top of that, went walking around with wet yellow shoes in Yokohama?

Of course it had to be yellow. It wasn't that he didn't like yellow. Earthy yellows were good. But this… _this_ yellow was screaming at his eyes. The disgruntled warrior of earth cocked a bloodshot eye at the neon stain gracing what _was_ a new left shoe and swallowed the growl in his throat.

A small, balding businessman rolled his puffy eyes up to casually survey the situation. There was a very man towering in front over him… who seemed to be rumbling… and twitching… and maybe talking to his feet. The worst part was, he had no idea what could set him off. Or maybe he just would, like an earthquake. Either way, when the assessment came up unfavorable, he opted for a small bubble of unoccupied space further down the car and with all the soft, slow grace of a deer, turned to push his way through a mass of bodies, briefcase first.

Hardrock didn't fail to notice him go, or the eyes that he sometimes caught before they shied away like fish. Certainly none of them liked the sight of a grumpy man with a hand hooked in a tan leather loop over his head, much less one whose frame was blocking an entire door. Even if he was at ease, talking, joking, people could sense that he was different. In these strange little isolations, he took solace in the notion that the other guys had lived this moment a thousand times, a thousand ways. He let it go and cracked a smile at the electric yellow polish. Plain white shoes were a little boring, anyway.


	5. Bruise

**Bruise**

There was dirt in his veins, he was almost sure of it. In all the battles he had been in, all the training, all the sparring between the boys during down time, he'd bled three times, maybe four. Even the occasional bruise was nothing more than a faded patch of yellow-brown that generally went unnoticed wherever it lay on the surreally strong, compact muscles that slipped and rolled beneath his thick olive skin.

Except today. He left the boys and came into the house in orange board shorts (nothing else) and flopped down on the couch. The ring of metal and thud of bodily blows drifted through the screen windows. Mia recognized his heavy movements and shouted from her study that he had better not get sweat on the couch. He just ignored her, leaned back, and let the fanned air cool the beads of perspiration. He wasn't done practicing, anyway. The couch was merely a pit stop on his way to the kitchen. Just a quick little break, a nice little drink, maybe a peek in the fridge, and back to it.

He stretched and brought his left arm up to inspect the ache that worked through a little patch of flesh just proximal to his wrist. Sure enough, there was an uneven discoloration from where he had blocked a strike to the face from the side of Sage's hand. The ronin of earth stroked the mass of tender flesh with the ball of his thumb and savored the pain. This sore little circle of blue was a reminder that he was human, after all.


	6. Moon Ritual

Day 5 prompt: tides

**Moon Ritual**

Pulsating light, the color of sea matching sky, painted aqua walls a deep blue in the darkness. It ebbed in and out from its place in the mouth of Yasuo, the orca that had been his favorite stuffed animal since he had passed him in a wire rack of a dozen other Yasuos at the Toba Aquarium gift shop when he was five. The little whale still held his seat of crowning glory (save for the orb, which he simply explained as a marble he found somewhere) atop the small, stone and copper-vined fountain his father had built on his headboard before he passed, complete with two blue-green lotus candle holders that had been gifted to him in primary school by the mother of his friend Jiva, the shy Indian boy he sat next to in the vertically alphabetized rows of primary school. The lady Perumbeti saw him eyeing the little glass flowers a little too closely from where they floated alight in a dish of water on the dining room table the very first time he visited. Delicate, ringed hands plucked them from the live purple and crimson blooms scenting the house to give to the boy. She told him very bluntly in her heavy accent, "What belongs to the water belongs to you."

The story of the pulsating orb was an entirely different story, moons ago and worlds away.

Tonight he was wrapped in a gray woolen blanket on the deck jutting precariously over the cliff to read by light of white lanterns and full moon. The salty air fluttered at damp ears of the textbook for his Marine Biology curriculum. Truly, he enjoyed the class and the material had always come to him, making this homework rather enjoyable. He was taking in a chapter on rays when the orb's sync with the waves drew his attention to the flashing blue curtains inside his bedroom window. The reaction was slow to hit, like an arrow shot into water. "Damn it!"

A few years ago, he might've gone tearing through the house in a fit of tearful rage at the prospect of being drawn from peace. The whole affair would've woken his mother. Instead he laid his book down on the dining room table as he came from the deck and slid the glass door closed with a soft whisper of fine insulating clothing running along the track, punctuating with a thump against the frame. Undoubtedly a battle was sailing in from the horizon, but he took solace in the fact that it would be months before the blue light would fill the Torrent's orb until the were no waves left but a steady glow.

Cye slunk out of the rectangle of moonlight on the sand-white carpet and crossed the living room. In the hallway, he paused at his bedroom door just long enough to glance at his desk and bed in the rolling light of that damned orb before moving on to press an ear to the crack in the door of his mother's room. Her breath was slow and even.

From there, it was back onto the deck, down the staircase opposite the wooden chair he'd been reclining in, and along the cliff. The invisible rocks below sent a mist up in gusts through the high-railing water-sealed cedar. He pressed through the gazebo set on a projection of flat gray rock, onward. The little lights strung about the canopy were dark, and it was better this way. In this ritual, he hated lightbulbs, televisions, even the sun. Only the moon could lead him into battle with her soft white light.

The final leg of walkway was sloped and quite dangerous, but Torrent stalked over the planks with hands clenched at his sides. The anger of being called to duty had left him long ago; the swagger was simply the warrior's nerves coming out when he shed his skin like this.

The sound of waves echoed off the cliffs on either side of the small private beach and died out in the trees, their subtle roar waking the energy in his bones as he trudged barefoot in the sand, never once stopping to consider the feel of the grains between his toes. Only the black water could stir him, for his head fell back when a wave broke over his feet. The water pulled at him, back and forth in a rising line of cold electric, and he gazed up at the rabbit in the moon.

Surely he wasn't the only one to verbally address his element. He knew Ryo must, for he recognized the blind worship dancing in the flames reflected in his eyes. As far as Cye knew, Wildfire had never received any training; he had been on pins and needles and, unlike the others, completely unprepared. He'd had no idea of what to do until everyone in Japan was talking about the black clouds rolling in from the northwest. When he heard that, he ran home to get the affectionate white tiger that hung around in the woods behind his house and hitch a ride east while leaving his grandparents brokenhearted in the doorway. He was a pyromaniac, true to the heart, and knew the fire had chosen him.

The other three were questionable. It seemed Rowen and Kento were not as consciously tuned, as earth and air were constant presences. Nevermind the fact that they were childhood friends and trained under Kento's grandfather, mother, and aunt. The ancestors of Hardrock were one tribe of two to keep the legend alive, the other clan being borne of Halo. Both kept training and protection at a focal point over the centuries until mastery. The earthen family trained the boys based on physicality and corporeal sensations, where Sage had conquered the essence of both mind and body. His only real challenge was functioning without light, and certainly any one-sided conversation he may have ever had with it would never be externalized.

Cye pulled his undershirt over his auburn hair to expose his skin in the mist. When he spoke to the waves and their queen high above their reach, his few words were composed, respectful. "I suppose I must do this again... I merely ask for direction. You know greater than I where the faults are. We'll smash them and wash the blood away."

He smiled out at the ocean stretching black below the stars, reliving the thrill of riding the wave straight and true over a fallen enemy. To the moon, "Whatever it is I'll face, I trust you'll open and close the doors in my favor, carve the right currents. Please, don't follow me too close and let things fall to chaos here. Guide me from afar."

He knew that was much to ask for. Water could go many ways at once, back and forth between the dimensions. The real danger was the energy that had threatened to crush him in the veil between the moon and torrent of souls as he fought for control of his tangible body and the conduit armor inside one of Talpa's nine towers. The fear, the pain, the remorse that the light filled in him flowed out when the tides remembered and kissed his chest. Cye took a breath of air, the last link to life, and went under to lose himself. Overhead, the moon raced across the sky to keep her waves gentle for her brave warrior. He did not understand the nights when she would not show her face, instead cry for the boy she must send into harm's way, but he loved the rain falling from the heavens just the same. Tonight, she smiled, for she would light the way home.

When the bearer of Torrent rose from the tides, the water dripped and evaporated from the salt on his skin, leaving him pure for battle.


	7. Time

Prompt: Time

The chair in which Torrent was seated swiveled with the lunge of the gray outdoor-carpeted steel, nearly sending his shoulder into the throttle. "Hey, settle down!"

"Oops." Hardrock halted the roughhousing with Strata. Usually Kento's mass against Rowen's sharp bones left the boys absentmindedly rubbing their own shoulders after checking each other. This time, they just straightened up with loose legs to ride the waves and took a swill from the amber bottles in their hands.

Ryo had decided to start the after dinner party with some sort of whiskey drink. Cye preferred cold, clear gin, for he could drink the stuff like a fish. The trip down to the dock obviously should have been avoided, particularly for the temperamental Wildfire's sake, but the boys' sense of adventure couple with a few drinks killed any common sense about the idea. So now the poor boy was hanging onto the rails with his green face severe against the red t-shirt he'd chosen for the day.

Sage was seated in the corner. He had been quietly taking in the scene, and when he thought no one was paying attention, he took Mia gently by the fingers to pull her down into his lap. "Come here," he whispered into her hair. Cye took this in from the corner of his eye, then turned away.

Yuli stood alone at the bow, the sober watch over the band of stars in the black water.

The strange, constant interactions within the seven of them were constantly engraining themselves into Cye's memory as surely as water carving rock, every second always a passing moment the he could later smile upon when it swam up, flitted about like a fish shining against the darkness of his memory, and was gone. When their feet touched land again, the single memory would snap closed and sink into the past like all the other little fragments of time. Until then, he lost himself to the current.


	8. Bats

Day 7

**Bats**

Sage had enough of the damn bats. And, he felt it was safe to believe, everyone but Rowen had enough of the damn bats.

The different events during the yearly trip to the zoo had already been held up time and time again, not that he didn't enjoy all the animals he'd seen. He merely wanted to see the peacocks in all their shining glory. They wandered freely about the grounds of the aviary, crying out loud and strong among the twitters in the canopies above.

This was still quite a way off, he was well aware. Everyone knew that the aquarium would hold up the show, so it was unspoken that it would be the first stop. Cye transformed into a little girl at the mere presence of sparkling fish, so it was best to get the hour-long affair taken care of immediately.

At the exit of the display was the African continent. That was a relatively brief encounter, as Kento led the way with Yuli in a close second. The hyperactive boys zipped from animal to animal with no more than a minute's contemplation. The only exception was the large hippo that rumbled and flopped its head back, much to Kento's delight. Just as it seemed they were departing from Africa, the conversation came around to pygmie hippos. Kento swore he'd heard of them, Rowen said he was making it up. This led them back to the hippo display, where they inspected every plaque until Kento began to dance around with glee. He could lord this over Rowen for weeks.

The cathouse had caught Ryo's attention. And then a pretty white female tiger caught his attention. Nevermind the fact that the pretty white female tiger had been knocked up. Ryo thought, why not? Take the cubs home, too. Surely the male tiger already residing there wouldn't slaughter the innocent little kittens; he was too mystical for that. They would be one happy family.

It was all Sage and Kento could do to keep him from climbing over the fence and busting them out. Halo's job was to remind his fearless leader of the beast's untamed temperament in combination with maternal instincts. Kento was the brawn of the operation. When Hardrock went for Ryo's legs, the slighter boy tottered perilously over the cement ravine and the mother eyed him up and down: cub food. Wildfire finally grasped this just as Kento pulled him back from the railing.

After all the heroics, the bearer of Hardrock felt his perpetual hunger tugging in the pit of his stomach. So they made their way to the outdoor cafeteria, getting sidetracked when Yuli spotted the elephants. That boy had never been so excited as when one curious pachyderm curled the lip of his trunk around Yuli's outstretched hand. The child was overjoyed to have the friendly animal's snot on his fingers. It made Sage a little sick.

In true Ronin fashion, they managed to arrive during a rush. A quick decision on Mia, Yuli, and Ryo's part and they were off to the bathroom. Mia reminded him that she wanted to see zebras as she herded her boys toward the restrooms. Kento wolfed down a hamburger while Cye marveled at the penguins, who were temperate of the warm Japan summer in their outdoor display. Rowen and Kento, Ryo Mia Yuli, returned from their meal, Rowen demanding bats.

That was twenty minutes ago. Sage had enjoyed the bats for the first five minutes… and then the goth girl appeared. Rowen noticed the girl with stick-straight black hair cooing through the netting at the leathery animals that crawled upside-down on the twists of damp brown logs. Strata, too shy to go introduce himself, was slowly growing bolder and bolder in his glances. And the little goth girl knew it, too. Sage couldn't understand why she enjoyed the graceless looks the boy with the popped collar was throwing her way. He wasn't her type.

So this really wasn't about the bats anymore. Sage was just sick of the little titters and the cacophony of wings and the smell and the darkness. He was considering telling Rowen to grow a pair or go outside to wait. However, both were poor options. Either one ended in separation and who knew where that would take them. This was already just one small adventure for the day, he didn't need another.

The girl fluttered her black lashes at the archer. Halo just sighed and crossed his arms. He really didn't like bats, with or without netting. They got too close to his hair.


	9. Lady

Day 8

**Lady**

Kayura's head craned back on its axis under the Tokyo lights. This was her second trip to the mortal realm since that first curious visit after the demise of Talpa, when she saw a world was lined with flowing rivers of rock for living metal things that trolled around with four wheels and people inside. Mia called them cars. The people who did not zip around in the monstrous insects streamed on either side over squares of rough gray rock: sidewalks. Buildings towering, buzzing with life. People streaming in, people streaming out.

She loved the city. The night ebbed under the whips and bars of alien color. The voices swirled around her on the air scented with food from the corner vendors. All the strange things she'd never seen before sat on display for her behind invisible walls. So of course a girls' trip into town was in order.

Mia had taken the liberty to obtain clothes that would make Kayura feel at ease: khaki pants, boots, and a blue blouse. She had also purchased cosmetics for Kayura to take back to the nether realm, along with a mirror and a canister of cold cream for removal of the waterproof eye makeup. Kayura was grateful, for she had loved painting her eyes up in red and black while serving under the demon. It had been one of the few things that reminded her of her humanity. Tonight her eyes shimmered with pink shadow.

"Hey baby," the slur in the young man's voice caught her attention. She'd heard it enough before, late in the night when the Warlords drank from a gray ceramic jug in Dais' quarters. She looked up at the man, whose heavily-lidded eyes roved over the navy locks covering her body. "I'd like to get lost in all that."

His friend laughed. From the corner of her vision, she saw Mia turn and wait for a reaction. Kayura never broke her pace, just glared with painted lips twisted into a smug little scowl. Five paces in front of the drunk, she leaned to the side and silently spit right in his path.

The friend laughed. The drunk called her something, a modern term that she knew was meant to be an insult. Mia snickered, for there was no way to recover from such a lewd gesture, particularly from a lady. Kayura simply wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and smirked.


	10. Blood Ice Cream

Day 9

**Blood Ice Cream**

Cye was seated Indian-style on the couch with tissues jammed up his nose and a bowl of strawberry ice cream half-consumed in his hands.

An after-dinner sparring session had ended in blood, quite literally, with a resounding crack halted all movement in the bare bit of dirt across the Koji manor's backyard. As his element was water, he had a tendency to bleed an alarming amount in comparison to the others.

Everything outside the sting, the warm flow over lips and chin was nothing but light and noise for a few minutes. In his haze, he couldn't remember who had struck him. Kento, maybe. Sage fussed over him, pressing his fingers flat over the swollen cartilage under Torrent grew tired of the blonde in his space and began shouting at him, despite Halo's best intentions.

Mia took him by the arm into the bathroom and dressed his wound. She tilted his chin with her hand, washed the dried blood from his lips, rolled up little pieces of gauze for him, all without speaking. She was wonderful like that.

The others flurried out of his way when he plodded down the stairs, snuffling down the rivulets of blood in the back of his throat. A bowl of ice cream had magically appeared on the table and he began to eat without question.

Kento came into the room to apologize again. He leaned over the back of the couch and turned his head sheepishly when the smaller boy didn't acknowledge him. Cye just pressed the concave side of the spoon against his lower lip and stared at the TV. He forgave Hardrock. That didn't change the fact that his ice cream tasted like blood.


	11. Vacuum

Day 10

**Vacuum**

"You'd better fix that before Mia gets home," Ryo leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms to watch Halo sitting on the floor with a disassembled vacuum.

"Yeah, I know." Mia had been grumpy for the last couple days. Sage didn't want to think about why. He just knew that he had spilled rice and it was better for him to clean it up than to wait around and watch her scream when she realized that he had left the mess for her. Cleaning up after himself was just the courteous thing to do.

However, vacuuming was women's work. He'd used the noisy contraption a few times in his life and thought he knew well enough how to operate it. However, when he had plugged it in, the house began to fill with a distinct odor.

"Dude, why's the house smell like dirt?" Kento appeared behind Ryo, munching on an apple and looking curiously over Wildfire's shoulder at the vacuum guts strewn around the floor.

"Dunno," Ryo shrugged. "Reeks, though."

"It doesn't smell so bad."

"Of course you'd think that, Kento," Sage said without looking up from the lines and arrows on the canister.

"Whatever. You'd better get that thing put back together before Mia gets home." Hardrock knew how to reassemble a vacuum, but watching Halo struggle with something so simple was far more satisfying than lending a hand.

"I know, I know."

"Where's Rowen when you need him?" their leader looked through the windows at the sparring grounds.

"No idea," Sage said and began to fumble even more with the pieces. How damned hard could this be? "What about Cye?"

"He's swimming. Do you wanna go interrupt that?"

He didn't.

In the end, Rowen came home just in time to put the machine back together for Sage to run through the house. He was still admiring the neat lines in the grain of the carpet when their girl walked in. She looked around approvingly at the clean house and, more importantly, the chauvinist who had picked up the vacuum. Nevermind the fast that the house smelled of dirt.


	12. Girl Blood

Day 11

**Girl Blood**

Mia was melting into the couch. Every muscle in her body was turning into jelly against the cushioned fabric, save for the knot in the pit of her stomach that was making her day very unpleasant. She had coiled up like a snake underneath a blanket in the early hours of the evening. So far, it was a good life choice.

The Ronins had all picked up on it. She never once groaned or otherwise gave away her discomfort, yet they walked on eggshells across the living room and didn't argue when she put on her dating quiz show. Teenage boys or not, they were surprisingly perceptive of her shortened temper, her lethargy, her appetite. She supposed they _were_ learning about it in school.

And then the commercials came. All her best efforts to remain blasé throughout the advertisement for tampons were in vain; their eyes flickered between her face and the television set before it was even over.

Kento, naturally, was the first to break the silence with a little snort. She glared up at him, where he sat next to Cye on the other section of the sofa above her head. When she swatted at the earthen warrior's knee, Torrent drew up his legs to avoid her touch. So this earned him a smack in the thigh. He squirmed, Kento laughed.

The redhead got up on her elbow and continued hitting the boys' legs until Cye finally scrambled up the back of the couch, did an awkward backwards roll, and landed on the floor. His hair stuck up in unnatural places and his eyes were panicked when he got up and ran off to his room, Hardrock howling all the while. From the kitchen came the sounds of water and incoherent mutterings.

"Man, for being the effeminate one, he sure is superstitious about girl blood," Ryo remarked.

"I am not!" Torrent retorted from where he was still washing his hands.

"What, effeminate or superstitious?" Kento egged him on.

"Idiot!"

After the episode had subsided, Mia shot a threatening look around at the remaining Ronins. Sage cleared his throat and they continued on with the television as if nothing had happened. It was best not to bring any attention to such matters.


	13. Too Cool for School

Day 12

**Too Cool for School**

"Nomura?"

"Present."

"Obuchi?"

"Here."

"Ozawa?"

"Present."

The next name halted the substitute in her rhythmic roll call. The name clearly had not been written in the permanent teacher's hand. The Chinese characters were rough, as though whoever had written them was clearly not used to the foreign symbols. Mercifully, the teacher had written out the name in the Latin alphabet for her to sound out. This did not change the fact that it was difficult for the sub to accommodate the boy's name with her rigid consonants.

"Rei… Faun. Rei Faun?"

Silence. Stares. The substitute examined the list again. The name sounded right to her. "Rei Faun?"

And then she noticed, dead and center: an empty desk.

Meanwhile, a large, square face peeked around the corner in the hallway. When the coast was clear, the boy darted down the hallway as deftly as his frame would allow.

"Breakin' the law, breakin' the law," Kento sang under his breath and made a break for the outside world, pausing just long enough to kick at the door, which banged off its stopper and nearly smacked him in the face as he ran through.

The day was warm and the ground was soft beneath his back. This stunt would cost him, but he could afford it. A Ronin Warrior surely deserved a break from the tedium of trigonometry every once in a while, even if it was just a little jaunt out to the school courtyard. The dogs would be closing in soon enough.

He stretched out in the shade of a maple, still humming the Judas Priest song to himself. Through an open window, he heard an unfamiliar voice struggling. "Rei Faun?"


	14. Sorry

Day 13: Super angsty brat!

**Sorry**

I'm sorry. For a lot of things.

First, I was so young when you found me. Not for what it's done to me, but for getting in the way. I know you had to stick your necks out for me and Mia a lot. But it wasn't our fault, I swear.

I'm sorry I couldn't be there with my parents, even if they can't remember. They must've thought the worst.

I'm sorry I didn't realize how serious it all was, even though I felt death sucking at the breath from my lips time and time again. I never realized how much I hindered you all until Ryo snapped. The sting never went away.

I'm sorry that I feel so removed from you all sometimes, like I'm your little brother. Not enough to be remembered sometimes.

I'm sorry for everything else I've forgotten. I was a kid. Just a stupid kid who saw the adventure in it all. I'm different now that I'm older, I swear.

But as much as it hurts sometimes… I'm not sorry I met you.


	15. Mountain Man

Day 14

**Mountain Man**

"Mama, who is that?" the boy tugged his mother's hand. His dark eyes shone with the orange of the rugged man's shirt. His mother stumbled a little in her zori, began to reprimand her son when she looked up and saw the man he spoke of.

"He is an old warrior," her eyes roved the shaggy blue ponytail and wild sideburns hanging about his tanned face. "He comes from the mountains."

"What does he do there?"

"No one knows, my son; few rarely see him. His days of battle are long past. People say he is afraid of the evil he finds among us. Now let the poor heart be."

She continued on down the street, leaving her son a few paces behind. The boy turned for a last look at the colossal, dirty, worn man inspecting a pile of pomegranates in the winter streets. He spotted the child marveling and flashed him a wide smile. The boy's eyes darted down, then up again to light with a smile at the friendly soul.

_A/N: Because my document manager is currently full, the rest of this has been posted on livejournal under the name rocket_skates. Apologies for no direct link, this site keeps eating it._


	16. Saran Wrap

Day 15

**Saran Wrap**

Honestly, Cye had no idea what plastic consisted of. He just knew it was an unnatural, tricky thing.

Storing away any leftovers was a job for one of the others, someone who hadn't slaved away all evening. Today he found himself full of energy, even after a heavy meal, and decided to ensure that the kitchen was up to his standards, which meant leaving the other ronin out of it. Ryo, Rowen, and Kento were a little spacey when it came to the tasks required for 'spic and span.' Sage was simply above scrubbing a stove.

But there was one task that Halo could assist him in.

"Hey, Sage? Can you help me with this?"

"What is it?" the blonde was in the doorway before he even spoke.

Cye simply pointed at the bowl of food and a roll of saran wrap. If he were to touch the stuff, his pleasant mood would undoubtedly collapse.

Sage picked up the charged plastic and smoothly covered the bowl without as much as a wrinkle. A quick jerk of the wrist and the serrated edge freed the static sheet.

Cye watched, musing to himself on the utilities of their elemental talents. And Sage knew exactly why he had been chosen for this. He put the roll in its proper place, handed Torrent the wrapped food. "You're welcome."


	17. Hold

Day 16 – written for 64damn_prompts at livejournal

**Hold**

He could hold anything. A book. A pencil. A paintbrush. A telephone. A spatula. A picture. A pair of chopsticks. A girl's hand, maybe.

He looked down at the orb in his hand and the future contained within. More blood, more pain. Another chance to lose humanity. Another walk down the razor's edge.

He wanted to hold anything but this.


	18. Charm

Day 17 – written for 64damn_prompts at livejournal. I'm not sure about that semi-colon.

**Charm**

"Here comes another one," Kento groaned.

Of all the girls that came flouncing up to the table on a daily basis, none were ever interested in him. It was mostly Sage they were after; occasionally, Ryo. The blonde was charming, courteous, and most importantly, handsome. So of course most of the female student body loved him. They eyed each other jealously around the lunch room in calculation of the perfect timing to introduce themselves amongst the competition. They came from all social circles, all races, all talents. Most of those mentioned talents could be misconstrued as sexual. Hardrock wished he knew how to get girls to do that.

This one was in Kento's biology class, but he was just now learning that she was a gymnast. She made small talk with Sage about kendo for a moment, then led the sports conversation back to her athletic abilities, particularly the parallel bars. No doubt it would segue into a request for a date when she stopped talking about the split positions she had to practice every day.

The Ronin of stone began disassembling his cafeteria-bought sandwich, laying the unwanted ingredients on the cellophane. When satisfied with the small meal before him, he picked it up and took a bite. Sage was trying his best not to look bored with the girl's rambling, and failing. Kento just scowled into his food.


	19. Dust

Day 18 – written for 64damn_prompts at livejournal.

**Dust**

Mia tried not to look at the top of the television… or the stereo… or the shelves. If she did, she would get the urge to dig out a rag and go to town. The apartment was otherwise clean; it just needed a good dusting. She'd done this in the past and Kento of Hardrock seemed a bit hurt every time. He felt as though she was judging him as dirty, something all the others did.

She just sighed and diverted her eyes to the clean, white carpet. Of all the people who would be bothered by a thin layer of microscopic dirt, it sure wasn't going to be the warrior of earth.


	20. Lights in the Sky

Day 19

**Lights in the Sky**

The woman hung onto the tiger and the boy with all her might, for surely one of them would tumble from the rooftop while they watched their warriors swirl up and up and up into the bleakness over them all. Unknown dangers crept about in the darkness at their backs. Spirits and lights raged before them. There was nothing to do now but watch.


	21. Mauled

Day 20

**Mauled**

Rowen was taking in the evening news - nothing too eventful - when Wildfire walked in, looking quite like he had been mauled by a tiger. "What happened?"

"I took White Blaze in to get his shots." Clearly he didn't want to talk about it, despite the hints of amusement in the corner of his mouth.

Rowen meant to point out that wild tigers didn't necessarily need shots, especially one of the supernatural sort. It had been Ryo's idea to register him as an exotic pet, dues and shots included. He scanned the lacerations on his leader's arm and thought better of it.


	22. Equilibrium

Day 21

**Equilibrium**

"You know, you sure do fall down a lot for being one of the world's greatest warriors."

Ryo's face went red for a moment. His body went through a lot of stress and therefore didn't place equilibrium high on its list of priorities. Everyone accepted it and, unless he was in peril, laughed. This morning's procession up the hill to school was held up when he caught his pantleg underfoot and managed to fall down the hill, not _up_ as one would suspect.

Kento, being the joker he was, refused to let this one go. He was in a particularly ornery mood this morning, something Ryo didn't quite realize until he was ahead of him in the staircase. Hardrock's eyebrows twitched at the others - _watch this_ - and a single extended forefinger to the crease of the shoulderblade was all it took to knock Wildfire over.

"Damn it, Kento!"


	23. Mistake

Day 22 - Take the pairing as you will. It wasn't really any two particular when I started writing, then sort of morphed into CxS just to keep the two he's apart.

**Mistake**

Rarely did he make choices that could be later considered mistakes. Even something such as blowing off studying before a big test or sidling into work a few minutes late in lieu of extra laps in the pool was never a mistake, just foolish. The word carried weight.

Seeing him wasn't a mistake. Enjoying the sparring, the contact of flesh, wasn't a mistake, no matter how misconstrued the glances and blows. It was something he missed about _all_ of them, for those in his world were too frail for something so crucial to his nature. Smiling, laughing at his animated recounting of the last failed attempt at a relationship wasn't a mistake. Hanging on to his every word wasn't a mistake.

He put his arms around each of his comrades before parting ways, just as he always did. The act itself was purely platonic, for he knew his friend would never touch him again if knowledge of any romantic feelings were to ever surface.

Breathing his scent was the mistake. A subtle, musky odor of cologne and hair product mixed with the blonde's body chemistry clung to the threads and sent a sting up into his nose, his eyes. It was a constant reminder of what could never be his, always hung onto his skin long after the shirt had been ripped off and thrown in a crumple over the seat.

From here, he was homeward bound, where he could wash away such a horrible mistake.

"Hey," a hand was on his elbow, so sudden and cold it left his nerves rolling in hot waves. It took him a moment to realize he was still standing there. Touching him.

"Oh." his voice was thick. A smooth exit was going to be difficult at best. "Hmm. What?"

"I just wanted to make sure you're okay. You look like something's up."

He could do nothing but close his eyes against the burn and the tears welling again.

"I'm..."

He opened his eyes and stared into the blue. The words caught. Something was not right here, he knew that much.

Of all the little excuses that could be spun on his lips, only one sentence fell through before his face folded and the dam broke. One more little mistake in his life, never to be undone. "I can't get the smell of you off my skin."


	24. Burn

Day 23 - Ryo was how old? four? when his parents died.

**Burn**

The boy didn't even know he was awake until he followed the smoke to the window, into the chorus of screams that were horribly real. Before this moment in his life, he had never known human beings could make such noise.

He was sure the fire would not touch him. His lungs didn't burn with each pull of smoke as he thought they should. Even after he heard the voices outside his window, he felt the flames stay their distance. The only change in his perception was the sound of two voices behind him, calling to him. Screaming for him.

Hands closed around him just as he started back through the burnt window frame. He kicked and railed against the arms drawing him swiftly from the blaze, reached out to his parents and to part the flames for them. The arms didn't understand, he could _save_ them...


	25. Four

Day 24

**Four**

They stood without their leader on the dock, squared off in the harsh light of the water, unsure of how to pull themselves together without him.

It had been agreed that he was simply too vulnerable without White Blaze. Their hearts ached at the sight of red on white, and the thick black stitches. Sage's hand had been swift. Ryo had simply trembled alongside his companion with tears streaming from his eyes while the rest looked on solemnly. Now, straining to stand straight and confident amongst themselves, they simply had to decide who was to deliver the news.

It wasn't going to end well.


	26. Door

Day 25

**Door**

Ryo stretched his body in the warmth of the afternoon. It was good to see everyone safe. Kento and Cye had assured the safety of the others. It sounded like Mia was downstairs. Nothing on Yuli's part; his parents must have returned while he was out. He'd have to ask Mia as to his whereabouts.

A low scream resounded across the backyard just as he turned and sent him running into the hall, where found himself trying to navigate the unfamiliar house. A staircase was his mission at that moment. When he finally found the damned thing, White Blaze was already at the back door. Without a second's hesitation, the tiger expertly pawed the doorknob open with one graceful swipe and tore through the doorway to maul his master at the foot of the stairs. Ryo laughed and hung onto the furry neck the entire way down, even through the pain of weight and floor in his aching body.

Mia stood back from the situation to watch and, when she was sure the freshly conscious boy could still be considered as such, her head slowly swiveled toward the sunlight streaming in from where White Blaze had come in. "He can open doors?"

"Yeah, hasn't he come in before?"

"No..."

Ryo couldn't deny the way the girl looked around nervously at the furniture.


	27. Two Shades of Blue

Day 26

**Two Shades of Blue**

The sun was beginning to fall earlier and earlier these days, mirroring the waning moon on the opposite horizon. The afternoon blue was shifting into something cooler, something deeper.

The western sea wind whipped away licks of steam off the teacups to the cries of the gulls circling down over the sand.

Over the hours, they each asked themselves why they waited so long between these private cups of tea but once, for they knew the answer. Their inconstant natures rarely crossed paths, though this did not mean loose ties. Rather, they understood the currents of time and point and took in the absences through long days that always slipped away unnoticed.

The tides rose and promised an unseen rain. They poured another cup of tea in the cold wind.


	28. Pride

Day 27

**Pride**

Cye's knuckles hesitated over the wood when he caught a flutter of strings through the door. Underneath, a brush of drums to mark the beat and a bow singing feminine and sweet. The boy's forehead wrinkled in confusion and knocked to announce his entrance.

Inside the apartment, Kento was hunched over a checkbook and bills scattered about on the kitchen table.

"What's this about?" his friend hooked his thumb at the stereo still pouring out the melancholy notes in the living room.

"It's music. What of it?" Hardrock looked up defensively.

"Nothing, nothing. It just doesn't sound like something you'd listen to." Cye's hands went up to diffuse the boy's temper.

"Oh. Yeah dude, I like this. Gotta be proud of your blood, am I right?"

Torrent lapsed into himself to contemplate his own nation's musical traditions, something he had never cared for. National pride was a far-off concept that would be considered after he firgured himself out. He looked down at Kento bobbing his head absently with eyes lidded to the music. The pride of lost lands was alien to him. Still, he felt it when Kento held his head high. "Right."


	29. Guard

Day 28

**Guard**

The job of night watch was a dignified post left to the lady of the house in the days of recovery following battle. The hush that settled over the manor was thick with life comforted her in the darkness.

She brought them water, food. She held their hands and whispered of the beautiful world outside. She bandaged their wounds. They took her in between the blank spells as the ghost slipping though the doorways to look in at the swells and falls of breath. And they loved her.

Among doorways, she soaked in the moonlight that spilled in severe angles on the hall rug, eyes fearfully searching the still shocks of trees. She waited for the nameless demons a little too long on some nights. Her heart held her there in the shadows, the lone soul in guard over the warriors.


	30. Line

Day 29

**Line**

The nine of them stood around the cool flesh with the Lady Kayura at the head and Kento of Hardrock at the feet. Ryo, Rowen, Sage, and Cye stood at Anubis' right hand; Dais, Sekhmet, and Cale were at his left. Mia and Yuli looked on from the small stretches of space unoccupied by the armors. The mighty white tiger bowed his head and purred in deep swills.

The land was soaked in a mess of footprints from where they had brought the fallen one up from the water, and now a ring where the fine blues of his robes had bled out a little. The olive touch stayed loyal to his skin and for a moment they thought he lingered just on the other side of the line.

Their eyes looked around at the faces of the others, then down again. Triumph rolled back for a moment and they all grew a little older mourning a comrade lost in the timeless world.


	31. In The Orchard

Day 30. From the song by Tiger Army, which I do not own the rights to in any way.

**In The Orchard**

The stars broke in pinpricks through the blue fading out breaths of the last summer sun. The grass was cool and pleasant under their bare feet and the fruit hung full for them.

Since the years of the war, the four gathered rarely. Life as common folk - and more so, outcasts - was difficult enough without the sight of each other's blood-stained hands. They had all learned to fill the last few decades with the smallest treasures. Still, this was not enough at times. Some days were spent lamenting the sins locked in the past, some days the carnal gratifications, some days the lands where Anubis had gone before them, some days the empty space between.

This day was always such a day, heavy in the span of two lives flowing, talking, backward and forward. The former warlords of illusion and venom walked these orchards each year to take in the stories acquired in each other's absence before the earth died again.

"Don't you ever wonder who's going to stand over your grave?" Dais was saying as he bent to admire a plant, withered and pink where it clung to the soil.

"Not really. I hope nobody does. Perhaps then time will forgive what I've done." Undone in the evening's warmth, the tails of the poison warlord's shirt caught a branch. He peeled the fabric from his skin and uncurled his fingers, letting it flutter down to the dust.

Dais was silent at those words.

"Your problem," Sekhmet said over a mottled leaf, "is that you begin to mourn too early."

"At least I mourn," Dais rolled his eye away from the colors draining from the life around him, to his companion in an accusatory glare.

"I do. When it's gone." The serpentine man traced a finger over the wilted, browning petal of what was once white and smiled at it.

"I suppose we're different like that."

The sun touched the horizon and turned to red. Dais reached up to take an apple. The flesh was sour in his mouth. He smiled and forgot it would be gone tomorrow.


End file.
